


Won't You Give Me a Smile?

by chemmex



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Humanstuck, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 17:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4109521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemmex/pseuds/chemmex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat meets Dave in their senior year of high school. Fun times entail, as well as a few obnoxious ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Please Allow Me to Introduce Myself

You grazed over the meager selection of books arranged in alphabetical order. The library had long since become your familiar ecosystem, the Romance genre your warm savannah, usually laden with a bountiful amount of eloquently-written gazelle to satisfy the needs of a demanding lion like yourself. However recently, probably due to an overpopulation of lions in the biome (or rather an overabundance of your free time built up over the years spent reading the intoxicating texts), the pickings were slimmer than what you were comfortable with. To find a book these days that is both A.) really freaking good, and B.) not one that you have already read seems to be a worthy challenge that you would normally bother with had you the time, but you don't right now. You’re already on the verge of being unacceptably late for returning to your shift at the local diner just across the street. It was well known to your lispy co-worker that you liked to spend your breaks searching for another pleasant time-waster, but enough was enough, dammit. He has standards, and he's not happy with taking over for you longer than he has to, you know this. 

Still, just a few more minutes couldn't hurt....

In desperate attempts, you ran your index finger along the worn-out spines, intensely scanning and thinking that perhaps you could at the very least find a title that you haven't read in a while and re-read it, however just as you reached the 'L-O' section you came to a sudden halt. Why would you stop? There's absolutely no reason for you to pause your perfectly reasonable and determined hunt, so what were you doing wasting your already borrowed time? Oh, it's because you seem to have come into contact with some unexpected blockage. 

From your current field of vision you could see that this anonymous, hindering figure was wearing black Converse and jeans with their hands shoved casually in the pockets. You craned your neck up to get a better view and _politely_ ask whoever it was that had the nerve to keep you from your precious reading material just what the fuck they thought they were doing, however before you could they, or rather he, beat you to the verbal kickoff. 

"Is your name by any chance Carter?" he asked, more or less indifferent to your reply like he already knew the answer. As you continued to examine him you noticed he had blond hair, freckles, and was wearing sunglasses, _indoors. What sort of hipster, mentally-detached member of society does that?_

You glared. You didn't have time for useless questions, especially not from a douche-waffle like this guy, wasn't that obvious? Apparently not to him. "No," you growled, "Now could you please move your fucking feet? I'm trying to browse here."

He didn't move his fucking feet, however. He just quirked an eyebrow and asked you if you were sure that your name wasn't Carter, to which you replied with something along the lines of, 'I think I would know my own fucking name, Shitstain', and he shrugged, remaining as stationary in his spot as a rock. He took a half-hearted glance around the section, like he was looking for someone (this presumable 'Carter' probably), before he sighed and started gabbing again. "Look, I'm supposed to be looking for this short little angry guy in the romance isle of the library named Carter, or something like that. I don’t know I wasn’t really listening."

You were repressing a fairly good amount of anger by this point because you knew that _completely_ exploding in his face would do no good, and also that you would probably have severe mental issues later on in life for stupid, irrational situations like this if you didn't learn to control yourself, so instead you took a deep breath in shy attempts to even out your emotions. "My name is _Karkat,_ if that's what you're looking for," you reluctantly offered, returning your gaze to the books and trying to maneuver your way around him, to no avail. The guy just wouldn't budge. Asshole. 

"Yeah, that's probably it," he nodded, "Well, some guy named Sollux says to hurry the fuck up and get back to work before he sets your shit on fire, so...."

You finally straightened up to get on a more proper level with him, though he was still significantly taller than you, as unsurprising as that was. "And why the ever-loving hell would Sollux send someone I've never even had the extreme displeasure of laying eyes on to fetch me? Were the potential issues of disbelief with this particular situation not conspicuously obvious?" you asked, raising a single annoyed eyebrow. Just one though, let's not get too carried away here with double-eyebrow-action-time just yet. Save some spite for later, Karkat, or you'll spoil your dinner, and then where would we be?

He shrugged. "Okay, well first of all, don't you think saying 'conspicuously obvious' is a little redundant? I mean, come on do you really have to throw around a synonym of one word to describe another word that means pretty much the exact same thing? But whatever floats your metaphorical boat, kid.” More reasonable glaring from your end. “Second of all, I volunteered, and I didn't figure there would be such _extreme_ issues. It seems pretty cut and dry to me, really. I think you're just over-reacting." 

Your nose twitched a little in anger. "Don't you fucking go calling me kid. We're probably the same age, you pretentious shitsniffing numbnuts. And I'm already here, so I'm gonna finish picking out my goddamn book, all right? You can just go on and tell Sollux that. It shouldn't take much longer."

He didn't seem to be having it though. "Look, man, I don't wanna get in between your worktime relationships and the everlasting bond between co-workers and whatnot, but Sol looked pretty fuckin' done to me, and I don't even know the guy beyond his first mildly fucked-up name. So maybe you should just skip out on your search here because, one, like I said he's about to shit bricks. And two, you're probably doomed anyway. I mean, this is the romance genre for dick's sake. Like, how low even _are_ your standards for fine literature."

You scoffed, "My standards are at a perfectly acceptable level, for your fucking information, and I would probably already be done by now if you hadn't interrupted me."

"If you didn't find something already, what makes you think you'd be able to find anything at all?" he pushed, not missing a beat. 

You didn't answer his question, just continued to glare at him. He, in turn, spun on his heel to face the rack, glancing around for a moment before pulling out a book at random and carelessly tossing it to you. 

You caught it, barely, and were about to shove it back in his vile, unforgiving hands in attempts to express your disgust for his crude actions, but when you actually took a stark look at the cover you stopped yourself. You couldn’t believe your eyes. It was one of your old favorites, and you hadn't read it in ages. You had completely forgotten about it in fact, and now, upon seeing it, you had the sudden very strong urge to check it out. The mental debate between retaining your stubborn appeal or giving it up was raging, but then you reminded yourself that you really shouldn't keep Sollux waiting any longer, so you lowered your arms in surrender, gripping the classic tightly by your side. You knew that it was just a matter of unfortunate coincidence that he picked this one, anyway. You were sure. 

"Good to go?" he asked a few moments later, interrupting your thoughts. 

You begrudgingly mumbled a yes and pushed past him, making your way to the speediest of check outs the vast history of librarians has ever had the insane prosperity to witness. And much to your surprise, instead of just leaving, the blond stranger silently followed and stood next to you as you made the transaction. You figured he would've gone, returned to whatever previous activity he was in the middle of before he so graciously volunteered to complain to you on Sollux's behalf, but he didn't. He just patiently waited out the transfer of items and calmly ignored the questioning looks you threw at him. 

 

God, what a prick. And there you go again, releasing your ever-eternal mental hate. Sending it his way through high-speed brainwaves and feeling the sweet, imaginary sting of his reaction-tears in your mind. Were you over reacting? No, you didn’t think so. You liked your personal space, and this guy was not respecting it very well at all. In fact, he was practically bumping shoulders with you, the fucker.

The moments of mere, uncomfortable standing did pass though, and then you and the disregarded stranger were left exiting the building with the new quest of returning to your sacred work place before your co-worker unleashed his fiery wrath on the poor, defenseless citizens of Scratch's Diner. And though you knew that the citizens would be few in number on this particularly warm August Monday night, their lives still mattered, dammit, and you needed to be the one to make sure that they were spared. It was your destiny. Your only concern. 

Well, maybe not your _only_ concern. You were, imaginably, perhaps the tiniest bit concerned with you-know-who on your left over there. Who was he? What was his name? Why was _he_ the one to retrieve you? _Why the hell was he wearing sunglasses?_ First, inside the library, and now outside during the brief walk across the street, _at night._ I mean, the last of the sun’s rays had already abandoned Earth for the night, so what the actual fuck was this guy's deal? You didn't fucking know, but it was really pissing you off. Have you not already made that clear?


	2. Where is my Mind?

Apparently you had, because as you and he walked through the door and into the fluorescent lighting of the diner, he once again quirked an eyebrow over those most-likely pointless sunglasses of his and asked, "Something wrong?"

"What? No, why would you say that?" you replied, snapping back into the reality that you hadn’t even realized you were out of.

"Well, you were kinda still givin' me this disgruntled glare, like, ‘oh _shit,_ who the hell does he think he is?’ And I'm just wondering how I fucked up this time," he elaborated. 

You didn't say anything for a moment, just sort of blushed and mentally cursed yourself for staring because it wasn’t a usual habit of yours. "Nothing, don't worry about it," you mumbled. 

He shrugged it off and then left you to go sit in a booth with some kids that you recognized from school. You didn't even see them as you first walked in, you were too preoccupied with... well you know what you were too preoccupied with, you just talked about it, so no reason to come up with a word to describe it in a more abridged manner. Predicament? Situation? Conundrum? None of those really sounded right....

Fuck, and now you're getting too preoccupied with other useless wastes of your time. Or maybe it's the writer's fault. Well, fuck you, writer, who do you even think you are? Yeah, that's right. You show her, reader. 

Yeah, this is completely pointless meta action going on right now; perhaps I should have a third-party character break us out of this n—  
"KK, I'm waiting over here," your co-worker called. He was wearing his legendary bitch face and speaking in his signature apathetic-yet-somehow-also-annoyed tone of voice. You rolled your eyes and went to join him behind the breakfast bar where the employees stood when they didn't have anything else to do. 

"Fuck, I'm coming, calm down already," you said to him. 

"Calm down? I've been here for twenty minuteth of _your_ thhift, waiting for you to get your thhit together and relieve me. I need to go home, athhole."

"What, so you can play your shitty video games on your computer instead of on your phone, dickweed?"

"Yeth," he answered, grabbing his pre-gathered up gear and beginning his storm out of the place. 

"Wow, my bad, how can I ever pay for the monumental damage that has been done?” you shouted as he neared the exit. “At least I was looking for an entertainment source that involves _some_ kind of intellectual value instead of just looking at a shitty screen with graphics a toddler could design."

"Oh, fuck you, KK. My graphicth are way more intellectual than your third grade love thtory reading material could ever be. Have fun waiting the last tableth, dork."

You mumbled a goodbye as he slammed the door behind him, and ignored the judgmental looks you were receiving from an older couple who was taking a pause from scarfing down their three-bean soup to tell you with their ever-conservative eyes that they did _not_ appreciate the way you and your co-worker/friend talked to each other. Other than them, there was only the aforementioned booth of familiar teenagers in the room who were way too involved with their own antics that too even pay notice you as you walked up to their table to take their order.

Since being ignored was never really your favorite thing in the world, you raised your voice rather loudly to ask them again what they would like to order, this time ending up with all eyes on you and a dead silent room. 

It was Gamzee, another one of your friends, who spoke first. "Oh, hey Karbro, I didn't know you all up and worked here, what a pleasant motherfucking miracle," he commented in that chuckly, stoned-out-of-his-fricken'-mind voice of his. Sitting lodged between Gamzee and the window was a kid named Tavros, looking like he was trying to hide the fact that he was somewhat anxious, as always, and across from him was Vriska, the school's best known bitch, a title she was damn proud of. And next to Vriska was the sunglasses-kid. He didn't have much of a reputation yet.

"Yeah, it really is a miracle, considering how much shit the pay is," you commented back. Some more half-hearted greetings were exchanged and then they all put in their requests. 

"I'll have... some fries," Gamzee said, somewhat dazed. 

"Tavros will have mojito," Vriska chimed in, "and whatever you can fix up with the scrap pile."

"But Vriska, I'm only seventeen, and I don't even think this place serves alco—"

"Just the scrap pile then," she stated.

"Uh, can I just order for myself?" Tavros asked.

"No." 

You rolled your eyes and told Tavros that you would just get him his usual, to which he replied with a thank you and Vriska went on making a big ass deal about Tavros always playing it safe and ordering the same thing every time, and how he was so goddamn boring because of it, but you ignored her mostly. 

"I'll have my usual too," sunglasses-kid said.

You gave him yet another glare, an expression that he was probably way too familiar with by now for only having met you about ten minutes ago. "I still don't even know who the fuck you are."

"So?" 

"So how would I know what your usual is!"

"I don't know, but with an attitude like that someone's not getting a tip."

" _What?_ "

"Dave, you've never been here before, I don't think you have a usual," Tavros explained.

"Oh," Dave said as if he didn't already know that blatant piece of information. "Then just get me whatever."

"Whatever?" you questioned bitterly, narrowing your eyes. 

"Yeah, surprise me," he clarified.

"If I get you nothing, will that satisfy?" you asked, not having the shenanigans.

"Well not now, obviously, since you just fucking told me; what kind of a surprise would that be?" he said.

"Oh, my bad. See I never learned about surprising the customer because I was too busy learning about giving them what they actually order, as fucking miraculously odd as _that_ sounds."

"Oh my god, shut the hell _up_ already," Vriska complained, throwing her stressed head in her hands like the Blunt Queen of Melodrama she was. "We're here to work on our project, not flirt with the crabby waiters, for Christ's sake."

"You guys are working on a project? But school literally just started last week," you questioned to the group, gladly switching topics. Anything to get out of the exclusive conversation with sunglasses-kid. 

"Shit, Karbro, we know that. It ain't stoppin' our wicked English teacher from handing out some group time ass-ignments, though," Gamzee said, rubbing at the table affectionately. You made a mental note to scrub this one down thoroughly when they were done.

"And of course I would get stuck with the stoner, scardy-do-hoo, and the new kid. Just my fucking luck, I'm going to have to do all the work. As always."

"Probably," Sunglasses-Kid, Dave you think, agreed. "Because being new in town obviously renders me fucking useless from doing any work. You heard the bitch."

"Exactly, at least blondie here is competent enough to understand _something._ "

After that, you served them their food and sat at the counter reading your book as you waited for them to finish so you could lock up. They were pretty fucking distracting, and you more than wanted to set them straight with your best speech on why it was important for others to _shut the fuck up_ while you tried to read, but you decided against it in the end. It would be a fruitless attempt, like trying to fix up the cracks in the foundation of this very building with scotch tape. 

And then, finally, they were done, their last rants and arguments exiting the diner with them. You sighed in relief and quickly closed the place down, throwing your book and the rest of your belongings in your backpack and strapping it on before stepping outside so you could walk home. 

Normally walking home was a very relaxing time for you. Everything was so quiet and dark and peaceful, and you would relish in the break from the aggravating world around you, however tonight it felt sort of... off. Like you weren’t alone. Like someone was watching you, waiting for the perfect moment when you had your guard down to jump out from behind the bushes and strike. You tried to shrug it off, disregarding it as paranoia, but then you heard a strange rolling sound start coming from behind you....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!


	3. What if I Say I'm not Like the Others

You stopped walking immediately and gripped the straps to your backpack as you tensed at the strange rolling noise approaching you. You whipped your head over your shoulder and squinted in order to try to catch a panicky glimpse at what was disrupting the usual tranquility of the night, and scoffed on impulse when you saw who it was. You turned to face the culprit, just not being able to believe your eyes. It was someone skateboarding. But not just anyone, no. Of course not. Of course it had to be fucking " _Dave_ " parading about. The skateboard, along with the already infamous sunglasses, would forevermore place themselves in your mind as a record reminder at just how desperately fucked up this guy was. 

As he continued to get nearer, you realized that you were not too far off from getting knocked into if you stayed where you were and he continued at his velocity. He seemed to notice this inevitable collision as well as he said, "Well, _look out!_ " in a tone that one used when they were giving a very obvious ' _Duh!_ ' as an answer for a stupid question.

His warning was not enough to download the spring into your step and get you the hell out of his oncoming vicinity, though, and the collision took place in a most ungraceful manner. 

As his body was knocked into yours, you both fell to the ground, not daring to neglect the use of the more vulgar side of the English language as gravity took its course. 

Your back was aching as you landed rather awkwardly on your bag (you were just glad it wasn't too particularly bulky tonight), and you could still hear the wretched skateboard lazily escaping away as a result of its rider's incompetence. Finally, you took a nasty note of how he was sprawled out on top of you, not much unlike the final scene of Titanic where Rose lain on the door as she watched Jack sink to the bottom of the Atlantic Fucking Ocean (you were very sensitive about that part). You were the door and he was Rose, of course. 

And as if to make matters worse, he spoke before you could very reasonably tell him off. "Dude, what the hell?"

"Me, what the hell? No! Fuck off, _you_ what the hell? I can think of so many reasons why this is completely your fucking fault!" you retaliated.

"No, I told you to look out, not my fault you decided to super glue your fucking shoes to the cement earlier."

It was now that you came to your senses and pushed him off of you, sitting up and groaning in the process. 

After a scoff, he sat up as well. "I'm gonna take that as an 'I'm all right, you're all right, no further blame necessary,'" he pompously stated. 

"You're kidding me right?" You just could not believe your ears, nor your eyes. This had to be a joke right, this whole night? Did Ashton Kutcher time travel back to 2005 and make a special, honorary Punk'd episode just for you? Because if that was the case, and really you don't see how anything else _could_ be the case, someone seriously needed to tell Ashton that his attempts went unappreciated. "First of all, ever hear of yielding to pedestrians? Yeah, that's a fucking thing, try it next time you decide to go midnight skateboarding. Which, coincidentally, brings me to my next point! You are fucking _skateboarding._ Who the hell _does_ that anymore?" 

"I do," he declared confidently, not a single ounce of shame, or much anything else for that matter, detected. 

As you stared at him in utter disbelief, mouth agape and eyes bulging, you considered going off more about how this was all his fault. The reasons were endless, after all. For example, why was he even out here in the first place? Surely there were better places in town to skateboard than the frequently cracked sidewalks and poorly paved roads that consisted of Main Street. Unless he was waiting for you. But that was a ridiculous theory, right? There had to be a good explanation, if he was even capable of such a thing. 

In the momentary silence, however, he seemed to have simply shrugged off the whole matter and stood up before you could verbalize your complaints any more. He swiftly brushed the dirt off his jeans and offered you a hand to help you up, and with that you just decided you’d rather not even waste your breath trying to figure out the mystery, as potentially disturbing as it may be.  
You reluctantly took his hand and he squeezed it tight, pulling you up off the ground with ease. And then, when all body parts were in there respective places and no longer making unnecessary contact, he asked you, "How are you liking your book?" Like this was just a coincidental meet up in the produce section of Walmart, like it was normal for the two of you to make small talk. As fucking if.

He would of course receive no answer, and if he thought this was out of line then you didn't really care. Instead, you gave him one final glare, readjusted your backpack, and finally, crossed your arms tightly over your chest to let him know that you were _not_ happy, nor were you up for talking about literary wonders, as ground-breaking and mind-blowing as they may be. Then you put the long overdue actions into motion, spinning on your heel in attempts of getting the fuck away and resuming your spoiled walk home. 

Fate wouldn't have it that simply though, for after a few moments of your dramatic exit you could hear him scrambling to retrieve his board and casually starting to walk a couple of paces behind you. You threw an annoyed glance over your shoulder, and found that he wasn’t even seeming to pay you mind anymore, he was instead busying himself by gazing up at the quaint array of shops and restaurants bordering the sidewalk. Or maybe he was focusing on the particularly cloudless night sky, laden with stars of varying sizes and brightness; you weren't sure. All you were sure of was that it was better just to ignore him than to acknowledge him. He was probably on his way home too, after all. You just hoped that his house was considerably closer to the diner than yours, or maybe that his path would branch off to a different street so he would depart and leave you to your peaceful lonesome once again.

But that didn't happen either. He followed you the whole way as you drifted through the nigh empty city into the residential area of town and made your way to the apartment building that you lived in with your dad. As you finally walked up the steps leading to the front doors, you paid him one final glare, and as if knowing you would he called out, "See you at school!" And then he promptly threw his board on the ground and rolled off into the night. 

"I sincerely hope not," you replied quietly to yourself, getting back on track and retreading into the familiar building for the night.


	4. Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood

As the next few weeks went by you found yourself surprised by exactly two things. First, you were surprised by how much of your life could actually consist of the infamous sunglasses guy, Dave, despite the fact that you haven't seen him once since the night after work when he more or less walked home with you—also known as The Skateboarding Incident. He's proven to become a significantly reoccurring topic in your circles, and though the conversations about him, which you _proudly_ neglected to participate in (though you did listen intently), were brief, stress-inducing, and sometimes just downright unbelievable, they were also nothing short of intriguing. 

The project that he had been assigned with Gamzee, Tavros, and Vriska did apparently not go too swimmingly in the long haul, or at least that's the gist of what you got out of Gamzee's lazy but effective rants. It was almost amusing to hear him go on and on about how much he hated this Dave, because usually Gamzee didn't hate much of anyone. Your best friend's spite towards the annoying blond only confirmed how much of an asshole you already knew he was.   
Other friends of yours had found themselves in the midst of his constant presence as well. Both Kanaya and Terezi, in contrary to Gamzee, had more or less pleasant reviews about him, especially Terezi who seemed to pretty much _adore_ everything about him. You scoffed at her frequent praises, although secretly you were actually a little jealous. Whether you were jealous of her sudden affection for him, or the fact that you weren't directly getting to know him as well as she, you didn't know, and frankly you didn't want to. It was best to just keep those feelings unexplored, you figured. 

Kanaya on the other hand had really only become acquainted with him through her girlfriend, Rose, whom he had apparently befriended rather quickly due to their mutual love for sarcasm. John, another one of your friends, also seemed to get along with him pretty well, but you figured that was just because John was a dumbass who could get along with anyone, even you. 

The second thing that surprised you was how perhaps just a teensy bit of your most inner shielded self was _disappointed_ about your lack of seeing him. You couldn't really explain it, but it was almost like you missed rolling your eyes over his pointless shades, or scoffing at his nonsensical arguments, even though you had only been exposed to such things for one night. One night that, at the time, you wanted nothing more than to end, so why now was the word 'missing' coming anywhere close in reference to _him?_ No answer was given for this question though, in the frequent times that you thought about it. Only a perturbed sigh and a mental declaration that his legendary asshole status still stood no matter what, and that you weren't going to think about him anymore, which, again to your disappointment, didn't take effect for too long. You thought about him more than you'd like to admit. 

Your inner turmoil over the whole matter made it all the more confusing to hear about him from your friends, because one part of you didn't want anything to do with the guy, and yet another found itself silently praying that he would come up in conversation just so you could listen about him. It was very disconcerting to say the least. Fuck, did you really need to get a hobby other than halfway-obsessing over some guy.

Despite all this, however, you began to fall into the beloved routine you always did at the start of each school year, and as a result began to resent the abnormalities that popped up every so often as well. For example, today there was a pep rally. If it was during any other period you might not be so upset about skipping class for half an hour to watch kids do cartwheels and listen to failed attempts at hyping the students up, but it was sadly during your study hall. Thanks to this Friday's football game against a rivalry team, you wouldn't be able to catch up on sleep in the comfort of a desk and the more or less silent sound of your peers doing homework or playing stupid games on their phones. 

When the time came you reluctantly made your way to the school gymnasium along with everyone else, searching for one of your friends so you wouldn't have to be alone. Unfortunately, however, you found no one. You began to fall on the verge of desperation as you crammed yourself into the humid area, grimacing and forcing your way through the crowd with your eyes peeled for a place to sit. The stands that were normally pushed up for gym class and basketball practice (both activities you were glad you didn't have to take part in) were now uncompressed to their full form, not much unlike the how the odd car creatures could completely change their physique in the science-fiction/action _Transformers_ movies. God, did you not get movies like that. You think you only stuck around because of the romantic spark between Shia Labeouf’s and Megan Fox’s characters. 

Your search—or rather your distracted analyzation of romance in films that's main purposes are clearly not meant to be romantic—was disrupted, however, when you suddenly felt a hand wrap around your wrist and pull you under the aforementioned stands abruptly. 

" _What the_ —?" 

"Shut up." You quickly got cut off from your confused protest by a hand being placed over your mouth. Really? A hand over your mouth? You thought that action was completely cliché and pointless, and not to mention _disgusting_ , and really didn't ever picture it happening to you in your lifetime because you were sure that by now everyone knew that trying to shut up The Karkat Vantas would end only in frustrated screams from both parties as the attempter eventually gave up, often sooner than later. However, as you began to take in your surroundings, you found yourself as shocked as everyone else who wasn't watching that this time, it worked. The triumphant hand that had been so firmly pressed against the bottom half of your face just so happened to belong to a pale, freckle-faced guy wearing sunglasses. You think that the only reason you weren't screeching your lungs off at him was because you were really not expecting this to happen. You were pretty stunned to say the least, and perhaps just a bit piqued as well, though you wouldn't admit that in a million years. "If you speak too loud, which I guess for you is just normal, they'll hear and make us get out," he explained. 

You thought about this for a moment while giving him a strange glare and peeling his hands off both your wrist and your mouth. You took about two steps back as well, because you weren’t really sure if you were comfortable with how close the two of you were standing next to each other just then, and thought about telling him off for how you didn't even want to be under here in the first place, but considering that that wasn't quite the truth, you didn't. "First of all, I don't speak that loudly," you said instead. He quirked an eyebrow that simply seemed to beg to differ, but you ignored it. "Secondly, I don't think anyone will be able to hear us down here anyway since everyone's screaming at their fucking friends up there," you pointed out, gesturing to the loud pool of students sitting directly above.

He just shrugged and started making his way deeper into the dark underside of the bleachers, carefully weaving through the framework and stepping over the metal foundation and the abandoned trash that littered the ground. You cringed at how dirty it was under here. Really, if you thought that the occasional layer of dust and crumpled-up pieces of paper that dejectedly missed the trash can in the classrooms were bad, this was a fucking nightmare. But what were you to do but just try your best to ignore it and silently curse the janitors for neglecting this area as you followed him? It wasn't like you could turn back, or at least that's what you told yourself. 

He eventually sat down on a more or less clear spot against the wall, and you eventually sat down next to him. As you looked around you began to find yourself actually appreciating the isolation from everyone else right now, even if you could still hear about how Becky Anderson was such a slut from some anonymous girl sitting above. 

"Poor Becky," Strider said. 

"No kidding," you said back. But in truth you couldn’t really pay her much sympathy right now, you were too busy trying to comprehend your own exact situation instead. "So, why'd you pull me down here?" you questioned, watching out the corner of your eye for a physical response to complement his upcoming answer. Really, of all the people he could drag into this semi-isolation with him, he could definitely find better company than you. 

"I dunno," he shrugged again. Always with the shrugging. "Pep rallies are fuckin' lame and I figured you'd think that too since you hate everything. Why? You didn't actually want to witness this garbage, did you?"

"Fuck no," you replied. But then again, who would? He nodded in appreciation. You opted to ignore his comment about you hating everything because you really didn't feel like getting into an argument about something stupid like that right now, though you weren't sure why since you were usually always willing to defend your own honor at any occasion. "But why wouldn't you just leave? I mean, being trapped under a set of bleachers surrounded by dirt and the loud complaints of 800 students above is hardly better."

He considered this. "I guess I could leave, I don't have anything else going on today,” he said. It was then that you also realized that you didn't actually _want_ him to leave. You couldn't leave because you had a math test later that you sure as hell couldn't skip, and you didn't really want to be left here alone. Asshole or not, Dave was better than nothing. "Why, do you want to leave?" he asked.

You were a little surprised he even asked you, and you weren't sure if it was just to be polite or if he was being genuine (although considering he wasn’t the most courteous of people you supposed it could be the latter). Either way it didn’t really matter, of course. "I can't," you sighed.

"Oh," he said. You weren't sure if he was still thinking about just ditching by himself, but if he was he didn't act on it, much to your shameful luck. Still, you decided to try to change the subject before he could potentially talk himself into it any more. "Gamzee hates you, you know," you said, unable to think of anything else.

He smirked at this. "What, that clown guy?"

"Yeah, he rants about you all the time, which is pretty odd considering it usually takes a lot for him to have even the slightest problem with anyone," you said, staring up at him.

"What can I say? I'm fucking talented," he bragged, flashing a grin at you.

You rolled your eyes. "Actually I think it's just because you're an asshole who's easy to hate."

He shrugged once more, making an annoying habit out of the action. "Same thing. Besides, if the guy's gonna show up high off his ass every day you can't expect me _not_ to mess with him."

As you and he talked you eventually made your way into other topics, and you learned a lot about him. For example, he just moved here from Texas, he lived with someone whom he insisted calling 'Bro,' and he really was just as annoying as you initially expected. No matter how much Terezi gushed about him, that would never change, but overall you decided that you didn't really mind all that much. Or at least, it was something you decided you could live with. You knew that you were pretty obnoxious sometimes too, and it wasn't like you were making any action to stop yourself, so not accepting Dave for the same trait would just be hypocrisy, right?

Eventually though, despite that fact that you found yourself really not wanting it to, the pep rally ended and the students began to file their way back out of the gym. You and Dave shared a mutual sigh and began walking out from under the bleachers as well. 

As you stepped into the open, you noticed Terezi was waiting for you just outside the doors. Sometimes it was like she had a sixth sense and just _knew_ things like this, like she could predict your every move, but in actuality it was probably only because she had an extra-heightened four senses and could hear you cursing the fuck out of an empty water bottle as you nearly tripped over it. She gave her signature creepy-ass grin when she noticed Dave was with you, almost seeming to be able to sniff him right out of the air, and immediately called the both of you out so you could walk with her to your next class. Dave had to branch off to a different hallway though, so you and Terezi offered your goodbyes and began to thread your way around the other students by yourselves. 

"What were you doing under the bleachers?" Terezi asked eagerly, looping her elbow playfully through yours as if you were escorting her to a most prestige event and not just Calculus.

"We weren't under the bleachers," you tried, hoping that since she didn't actually see you two under there she would shrug it off as a misunderstanding, though you knew that this hope was, in short, hopeless. Nothing got past Terezi, especially since she became blind. It was practically a superpower of hers to be able to call bullshit on anything with even the slightest stretch of the truth. It was pretty impressive really, if a bit aggravating. You figured it was only a matter of time before she had her own line of comic books and merchandise. 

"I smell lies! I will not tolerate liars, Karkles," she protested. Loudly, you might add.

You could push your cover more, claiming that you really weren't under the bleachers but instead on top of them with everyone else, lodged between Mary and Sue the whole time, but ultimately you decided against it. You weren't really up for the useless banter that would follow and only leave her forming suspicions more confirmed than ever. "We were just talking, calm down."

She raised an eyebrow, obviously way too amused with the whole situation than what could ever be considered healthy. " _Only_ talking?"

You stared at her, not liking the way she said that. "Yeah. Why, is that too weird for you or something?” you said defensively. “Is that not _okay_ , your majesty?" 

"Karkat, you idiot, that's where people go to make out," she said, chuckling to herself, probably as she pictured your shocked and flustered expression with uncanny resemblance to the real thing.

"Shut the hell up, you're lying." She had to be. Of course she had to be. She was just poking fun, as she was known to do, that's all.

"I'm not, Karkles, everyone knows it," she pushed, amusement only seeming to grow.

"I don't know it!" Seriously, when did all the students host a meeting to unanimously decide all the unofficial rules of high school, and why the fuck weren't you invited? You could have provided an incredible amount of insight and done everybody a huge fucking favor by shutting down some of the topics, like this one in particular, that were just downright stupid.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, what a shame," she teased, "I bet you would've liked to."

You didn't respond to her after that, just let go of her arm and paced ahead of her, grumbling a few choice remarks as you went and knowing that she would be just fine walking by herself.

"You're just going to leave a poor, defenseless blind girl to roam the halls on her own?!" She feigned shock, though you could tell she was really just trying to suppress the full stock of giggles stuck in her throat, which only made the situation all the worse and left you all the more unsettled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sad to say i'm not sure i'll be able to update this for a while as i'll be going on vacation soon, but if i can i'll try because this is pretty fun to write


	5. If it Looks Like I'm Laughing, I'm Really Just Asking to Leave

All right, you want to make this very clear. _You did not choose to go to this football game._ If it was up to you, (and unfortunately, some basic laws of free will were being broken to make sure that it wasn't) you would have just stayed home, read book or watched a movie, and not have been pushed around through the dense crowds as your 'friends' dragged you to the student stands. 

You continuously groaned to both yourself and to them, resisting the urge to physically face palm and question just how you got into this nigh torturous situation. You suppose it was all Terezi's fault, really. During lunch after the pep rally she bragged how you and Dave were sitting together under the bleachers, as if it you weren't cringing enough about it already. Thankfully, however, the others didn't see the irony in the situation as clearly as she did (apparently the rest of your friends were just as big of losers as you and didn't have a copy of _The Unofficial Rules of High School_ either, thank god), and instead they went on to talk about the pep rally itself and what you missed since you were otherwise preoccupied. You tried to tell them that you really didn't care, you hated pep rallies and you hated football and had never even gone to a single game in your whole high school career. They were a little bit surprised by this. Yes, football didn't really seem like your thing, but they all agreed that you needed to go to at least one game, if not to enjoy then at least just to get the experience. 

And though you tried to protest and resist with as much force as you could muster, they just wouldn't let up. Kanaya and Rose kept trying to persuade you by saying something along the lines of "If you've never gone, how do you know you won't enjoy it?" but you didn't quite get the logic of that. It's not like you didn't already know that it was just a sweaty ocean of loud pandering fans, exaggerating the intensity of a game because they had nothing better to do with their Friday nights. Gamzee and John kept trying to persuade you by professing just how genuinely fun the games can be, but you didn't really trust either of their judgments. I mean, come on, John was nearly incapable of putting any twist on an activity other than one that absolutely wreaks optimism (a characteristic that, news flash, you weren't too fond of because of its downright misleading and inevitably disappointing nature). And as for Gamzee... well, did you really even need to say why his perception could be skewed?

Then, Terezi decided to continue to be just about the most annoying person on the planet by saying, " _Dave_ will be there, Karkles." You once again thanked all the gods you didn't believe in that everyone else didn't hear her say that because they were too captivated with other shit by then, but ultimately her method really was the most persuasive. Man, did you hate her for that, but you did kind of want to see Dave again. You think he would make an ok friend, and he was so unpredictable that you weren't sure when you'd see him again if you didn't take this opportunity, dreadful though it may be. 

So here you were, being jostled about in a wave of loud teenagers as they cheered for a game that you couldn't even see because there was a tall asshole standing right in front of you (who really needed deodorant, by the way), blocking the view. You didn't really care though; you know the real reason you came wasn't to watch poorly coordinated players run up and down the field. No, the real reason you came was nowhere to be seen, actually. You had craned your neck all around, searching for the familiar figure with bright blond hair and obnoxious sunglasses, to no avail. And you didn't want to ask Terezi, who promised he'd be here, about him either. You doubted you'd be able to slip that into conversation without sounding suspicious. Still, you felt cheated that she'd lied to you. 

It was about 20 minutes of perspiration, screams, and complaints later before you decided you needed a break and started weaving your way to the stairs, claiming that you wanted something to eat and promising that you'd be right back and wouldn't just ditch, though you had everyone know that the idea was more than tempting and you totally would've had you a car of your own. 

You made your way down, but didn't walk towards the concession stands. You weren't really hungry, after all, just needed a few minutes to breathe so your claustrophobia wouldn't kick in. It wasn't until a few minutes of trying to regain your calm later that you almost got knocked over by some kids running around. They didn’t even turn around to offer you a hasty apology, the rude fuckers. You resisted the urge to cuss them out as you glared at them, skipping and playing cheerfully under the very bleachers you were just sitting on. And then a thought occurred to you. 

You walked around the corner to get a better view and, sure enough, there was Dave, leaning against a pole in the grass. You almost felt stupid for not thinking he'd be down there. 

You were just about to walk over to him when two more things occurred to you. One, Terezi's teasing you last time about being under the bleachers with him. ' _That's where people go to make out,_ ' she had said. How could you forget? Sure, this was a completely different set in a completely different location, but you were pretty sure the point still stood, at least in her mind. And as unreasonable as it was, that thought made you uneasy, and maybe just a little bit flustered. Two, Dave wasn't alone. He was quite obviously talking to someone. You squinted your eyes, trying to see who it was and noticed it was a girl with long black hair and glasses. Jade, John's sister. Seeing her there, talking enthusiastically with him didn't sit right. _You_ wanted to be there talking enthusiastically with him, or at least just talk with him. Sure, Jade was nice, super cool and a much better person than you could ever be, but you didn't like seeing her talking with Dave _under the bleachers._

Much to your luck, however, Jade departed just a minute or so later, waving goodbye and walking away. You tried to appear casual, like you weren't just trying to eavesdrop or stalk the two of them as she walked towards your direction, offering a "Hey Karkat! Enjoying the game?" as she passed. You nodded and mumbled a 'yes' and resisted the urge to ask what she was talking about with Dave a few moments earlier. Seemingly satisfied, she walked away, claiming that she wanted to watch the game now. You sure as hell weren't going to argue with that.

You peered over the corner again and cautiously began walking towards Dave, trying, and probably failing, to look nonchalant. 

"Hey," he called when he saw you. You tried to ignore how proud you felt when you noticed how his face seemed to light up just a bit in your presence.   
"What were you and Jade talking about?" Shit, you didn't mean to ask him that yet, how are you going to fix this? "I mean, fuck, hi," you muttered hesitantly, running a stressed hand through your hair, which in retrospect was only an even worse idea because it got stuck for a moment or two in the messy knots that you refused to ever brush. You immediately yanked it through, hoping that he didn't notice and cursed your sensitive head because _fuck_ , that hurt.

He chuckled and you suppressed a blush, physically feeling your mood sour. "Why? You’re not jealous, are you?"

"Shut the fuck up, _no_. Just curious," you tried to save yourself, shifting awkwardly.

"We were just talking about how lame the History teacher is, don't worry," he smirked, "She does a mean impression of Mr. Stinson, let me tell you." 

You ignored his all-knowing smirk but nodded casually nonetheless, trying not to feel too relieved, and also hoping that you could amuse Dave as well as her apparently unkind impression, though you would never admit that. Because seriously, when the fuck did you start caring about entertaining people? Where the fuck have your standards gone?

In a fit of contemplation over what to say next, it became apparent that they went in the gutters as you blurted, "You know, Terezi says this is where people go to make out." 

Shit. Shit, why would you say that? What the fuck is wrong with you, Karkat? That's not what normal friends talk about, is it? Well, ones who don't want potential sexual tension to ruin their friendship anyway. Imaginably, you were blushing as your face contorted into something that let everyone know you didn't know why you just said what you said, but you hated yourself a little bit more because of it. 

You cautiously looked up at him and noticed that he certainly did look amused, that was for sure. He chuckled a little, playing it off casually, but you could see a hint of a blush on his face as well, which only made you want to throw yourself off a fucking bridge all the more. "Did she now?" 

"Uh, yeah, I guess," you mumbled.

"Well I'd hate to say this but sorry, Karkat, I'm a classy lady. I don't make out until after you buy me dinner," he straight faced. It was amazing how fast his expression could morph into one with absolutely no emotion. A true art, really. 

You scowled a little bit, but ultimately you were just happy you didn't make too things awkward. You would be extremely disappointed if you scared away all your new friends this early in the school year. "Don't kid yourself, Strider. There isn't anything classy about you."

"You joking?" he scoffed, mocking offense. "I am ballroom dancing, monocle wearing, motherfucking Prince of France, classy."

"France is a democracy, dipshit."

"Not when I'm in town, it's not. They throw away everything they know about democracy and go running back to monarchy when I'm in town. All kissing my feet and asking what color I'd like my new palace to be. Shit's embarrassing, really."

You and he continued to talk and joke accordingly, however eventually, when there were about ten minutes left in the game, you realized your friends were probably wondering where you were. Either that or they didn't even notice you were gone. Whatever the case, you should probably get back to them. You asked Dave if he wanted to come up with you as well.

"But we won't be able to make out up there," he countered, pouting.

"Shut the fuck up, you prick, come on," you said as you grabbed his sleeve and began pulling him around the corner and towards the steps up. When you reached the top you were immediately given questionable looks by about half of your group, presumably pertaining to what the cat (or Kat, if we wanted to complete the pun (which of course we don't but we're going to anyway)) dragged in, which you tried to ignore. 

He, however, was warmly greeted and immediately dropped into a conversation with John. Something about movies, which normally you'd be all ears for, but from the sounds of it they both had supremely bad tastes. That might put a strain on your relationship with Dave, you took your movies very seriously. Overall, however, you were just glad Gamzee decided not to come tonight. That'd be disastrous. 

"What kept you so long, Karkles?" Terezi asked, bumping shoulders with you and wearing a knowing expression.

"Get that shit-eating grin off your face, Pyrope," you said as you faked a look at the scoreboard, trying to seem interested in the game instead of her absurd assumptions.

It ended rather quickly after that; your school’s team lost so everyone was pretty disappointed, except for you that is. You were just glad it was over. And maybe you were glad about some other things that happened that night, too. Maybe.

"So, Karkat, how did you enjoy your first football game?" Kanaya asked later as everyone was walking to their cars. 

"Wait, that was your first time watching a football game, ever?" Dave asked, butting in.

"Well he hardly watched any of it, you know this, Dave," Terezi commented, smirking.

You rolled your eyes again, and looking down at the gravel you were stepping on with satisfying _crunches_ chose to acknowledge only Kanaya's semi-reasonable question. "Admittedly, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

She and Rose gave you a self-satisfied 'I told you so,' smile as they got into Rose's car, AKA your ride for the night. 

Terezi, still smirking, made her way over to the side door. "Dave, do you need a ride? I'm sure we could all _squeeze_ in the back seat," she offered. 

"Nah, I think I'm just gonna walk."

"What, you don't have your skateboard with you?" you said, quirking a bemused eyebrow.

"No, dude. Would've probably gotten stolen by some little kids."

"Yeah, sure." You seriously doubted that, as would anyone with sense, but didn't comment any more on it. "Don't you have a car?"

"Well, yeah," he said, "but it was almost out of gas and I didn't feel like filling it up."

You shook your head over how stupidly lazy that was as you looked over and realized Rose was patiently waiting for you to get the fuck in, already.

"Perhaps you would just like to accompany Dave on his tread home, Karkat?" Kanaya asked through the rolled-down window.

"Uh...." To be honest, you were more than okay with the idea, but you weren't sure if he would be. Doubt was always your biggest companion. You glanced over to him to see his take on it.

"You can if you want, dude," he said, turning on his heel and beginning to walk away. After a few moments of just standing there you made up your mind, saying goodbye to Terezi, Kanaya, and Rose as you followed Dave, jogging to catch up.

And although it was faint, you could tell he was happy you made that choice, too.


	6. All My Worries, They Don't Bother You

More weeks passed, and you found yourself spending more time with Strider than ever. Not that that was necessarily saying much, it wasn’t like you were spending much time with him before you officially befriended him. Hardly any, really, just a few coincidental meet ups. But to clarify in terms of now, you were spending a very large portion of your time with Dave, and yet it strangely never seemed like enough. 

You went to the home football games and spent the whole time talking with him under the student bleachers (you would like to stress that you were _only_ talking; no other activities involving the mouth were involved, no matter how much some certain blind mischievous young ladies believed otherwise). You began receiving rides home from him after school when he had his car, and walked home with him when he didn't. Sometimes the two of you would get pretty deep into some very important conversations, and in those cases it just didn't seem fitting to part, so you'd sit around in his car or on the steps leading to your apartment for an hour or two until you got to an appropriate stopping point and got on with your lives. Sometimes he would just text you on a whim and say that he wanted to go for a walk, and then you of course would meet him outside and escort him like the proper gentleman you were. Though this may not seem like much, it really was a lot considering the sacrifices you were making. You were skipping out on hours’ worth of rom-com fun time, a practically religious ritual you took part in mostly for therapeutic reasons. You had tried to convince him to watch a few with you, offering that maybe the two of you could come to a compromise on one, but he has yet to give in. You won't stop trying though, never. To stop trying would be to shame the beloved Romance gods. What would Aphrodite think? Surely you would not like to find out.

You didn't know what he did during lunch because you never saw him then, so that half hour was reserved for your other friends, who have certainly taken a notice to your frequent time spent with him and have questioned you about it often, especially Terezi who claims that now she never spends any time with either of you anymore. You harbored some sympathy for how bummed out she seemed about it, but called bullshit nonetheless because she had two whole classes with you and three with him. She countered by saying that inside school doesn't count, and you countered by saying something along the lines of "Well _excuse_ me for making friends." She would grin slyly at that and wriggle her eyebrows in a manner that could only be described as suggestive while copying the word ' _friends_ '—quotation marks and all. You would ignore her, of course, because she was absurd. 

Today was no different from the rest, apart from the fact that you were _really_ hoping Dave had driven to school today, because according to the weather it was supposed to start raining around the time school let out, if not earlier. 

As you sat in science, your last class of the day, you couldn't help but think of this and only this as you gazed at the windows, clouds overtaking the sky like some kind of atmospheric mutiny, all darkened in an ominous and regal fashion. The way they always looked before a storm. Not that you had anything against storms or rain, you just didn't care to be outside exposed to such conditions. You didn't care to be outside exposed to any less than mild conditions, which was perfectly reasonable, you thought. You simply liked normal weather: not too hot, not too cold, not too humid, not too dry, and certainly not too _wet_. So hopefully, luck would be on your side. And by luck you meant Strider's competence to check the fucking weather and understand the gravity of the potential situation, but in reality you knew it was just a matter of if he felt like driving today; if you hadn’t already mentioned it, he was very unpredictable. He claimed it as part of his irony regime. You claimed it as stupid.

Lost in all this deep, profound thought, you almost didn't hear the final bell ring. You groaned to yourself as you hurried to pack up your things. Usually you had everything ready to go minutes in advanced and were the first one out the door, but today you would just have to settle for at least not being the last. This is what you get for letting yourself get distracted, you thought as you restrained yourself from cussing everyone out as they blocked the doorway.  
Eventually you made it out though, and with books in hand you raced down the passageways to make it to your locker and then to where you and Dave usually met up. Though to be perfectly honest, you weren't sure why you were rushing so much. Dave was almost always a few minutes late anyway. Perhaps it's just the rain making you anxious. Whatever the case, you were achieving speeds worthy of Olympic-level fast walking, so it was no surprise you ran into a few people who didn't have the time to swerve out of your way as they passed. You jostled roughly along, suffering through the endless waves of students you neither knew nor cared for and rolling your eyes viciously over some of the more unforgiving collisions. Suddenly, you knocked head first into the chest of, thankfully, some guy (thankfully because if you ran head first into the chest of some _girl_ it would’ve been a lot more awkward), and your possessions were comically flung out of your hands before you could even say, "Fucking shit balls!"

Your books were now sprawled out on the dirty tiled school flooring, and as you bent down to pick them up, you took a look up at the perpetrator, preparing your best award-winning glare. That's when you noticed it was none other than Gamzee. 

"Hey, Karbro, you should pay more attention in the hallways. Stunts like that can cause nothin' but stress for a brother, but it's no deal to worry about," he commented, kneeling down to help you pick up your books as well. 

"Don't you think you should pay more attention too?" you shot back. It almost sounded like he was blaming it all on you, which was ridiculous, and though you knew he was nowhere near being upset about it you still felt you had to defend your ground. It was just in your nature, he knew that.

He chuckled like the goof he was and you felt yourself relax a little. "Where you headin' to at such a wicked pace anyway, brother? What's got you so eager?"  
He held out your AP Physics book for you to grab.

"I was meeting Dave," you replied, "like always." You knew he probably didn't want to hear that of course. Gamzee's hatred towards Dave was already well established, but it wasn't like you were going to just make up excuses, that would be stupid. You reached out and took ahold of the textbook, but he seemed to suddenly have an iron grip, not giving it up. You glanced up and winced a little when you noticed that his expression had significantly darkened. 

"You sure like hanging out with that motherfucker, don't you?"

It wasn't a question, that was obvious. So you just shrugged uncomfortably and focused your gaze back on the book shared between yours and his hands. 

Luckily, his grip loosened after a few moments and you placed it back in the stack in your arms, standing up with him. As you met his eyes one last time you were relieved to find that his face had more or less returned to its normal carefree state. A state that you very much preferred. He's scary when he's angry, and there are just no two ways about that.

He clapped you on the shoulder, giving you a friendly goodbye that you reciprocated to the best of your abilities, and once he was gone you wearily rolled your eyes over the whole situation and began walking again at a considerably slower and more cautious rate. 

When you got to the foyer, Dave was already there. He raised a 'wtf' eyebrow, obviously questioning why you were late, but you shrugged him off, instead choosing to notice that he didn't have his keys dangling off his index finger today like he always did when he drove. You grimaced, hoping that they were just hiding in his back pocket or something, though you knew they weren't.

"Come on," Dave said, ushering you out the door. 

"Wait, Dave, it's going to rain," you protested. 

He didn't seem to understand the severity of your warning, though. Of course he wouldn't, the pig fucker. "So?"

"So I don't want to walk in the rain; let's try to find a ride with someone else," you suggested, desperate. 

"Karkat, it's not going to rain, and even if it does who cares? It's just rain. It ain't gonna hurt you."

"I don't give a shit if it's 'just rain,' there's no way in hell I'm going out there." You crossed your arms defiantly for effect.

He stared at you in disbelief for a few moments, or at least that's what you thought he was doing. He was, of course, wearing his shades. Regardless, it was a full few moments before he pushed the fact that it wasn't going to rain again. "Come on, if we walk fast we'll get home before it even starts sprinkling."  
You tried to protest even more, but once he started teasing you about being scared of a "lil' cloudy weather" you shut yourself up and pushed your way past him and out the door, not bothering to hold it open for him like as was the usual habit for you two. Chivalry was the least of your concerns. 

As you began walking you couldn't help but shiver every now and then at how cold it was, what with the clouds shielding the sun and the wind picking up. That, plus the natural chill the later days of October tended to have. You began to regret wearing such a light jacket and missed the earlier days of fall where you would find yourself victim to the crisp and cooling but not quite goose-bump raising air, unlike this torture. 

You tried to hide how cold you were, but really, shit's impossible. Of course Dave would notice, your teeth were chattering like a pair of wind-up dentures. What you didn't expect was him throwing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in closer with a tight squeeze so you were walking side-by-side. No, you didn't expect that at all; he _really_ didn't seem like the squeezing type. You made a few exasperated noises of protest as you squirmed a little on impulse, but he didn't budge (if anything, you think he pulled you in even _closer_ ), and eventually you gave up, beginning to find yourself strangely ok with the whole situation once you got used to it. At the very least, you appreciated the laws of thermodynamics keeping their good credibility as he shared his body heat with you. You could almost feel the atoms compiling your body colliding at faster rates just thinking about it. You supposed that if personal space and suffering through Dave's proud smirk were the tradeoffs for a more pleasant journey home, you could deal with it just this once.

Unfortunately, however, as kind and sacrificing as his action was, it wasn't enough to appease the rain gods and keep them from unleashing their wrath.  
The first few drops fell threateningly, scattered and eerie, and you knew that you would soon have to accept your most adverse fate. And you thought you were actually going to make it, too.

More droplets began to patter their way down at an annoyingly exponential rate. That's when you decided to cuss Strider out, and he decided to laugh lightly at your overreacting.

You weren't overreacting though. He was just a dick.

You and he walked faster than ever through the drizzle, and eventually as your complaining thickened and the rain broke out into a full on pouring mess, trees waving and shaking semi-violently and all, you made it to the end of the line. Fucking finally. 

The both of you were impressively damp, and apparently this fact, or some other cosmical force of the universe that you weren't aware of, granted Strider access into your apartment building. There he was standing in the lobby with you, childish smirk still plastered across his face as you ranted about how you should've just gotten a ride and now you would have to go take a shower and change your clothes and you were going to get mud on the carpet and....

And he wasn't listening. Instead he peeled his arm off you (which, wow, you actually had to put in a considerable amount of effort in order to not make a loud noise of protest) and started walking up the stairs that led to the second level. "Shut up and get your waterlogged ass upstairs. You do live upstairs, right? Ground floors are the worst."

Was he serious? He was just going to invite himself into your room? You were glad you'd never told him your room number, otherwise there'd be no stopping him from breaking all the rules your dad had about being in the place. Sure, they were stupid rules like take your shoes off, don't put your feet on the furniture, no food in the living room and always keep the place one hundred percent spotless (your room was the only area that had any sort of messy qualities to it, and that was because you locked it when you were away so your dad couldn't go in and clean up after you like the stiff he was. It was a point of pride for you). Definitely stupid, although not pointless, as they do tend to make it easier to maintain order and cleanliness. You doubted Dave would appreciate that fact, however, considering how he lives in a state of constant anarchy by the way he describes his home conditions. Nevertheless, he was already well on his way up, and asshole or not you couldn’t just steer him back into the rain. So you followed him up, leading another flight. You lived on the third floor. 

You made your way to room number 36 and dug around in your back pocket for your keys, unlocking the door and opening it. He was about to push past you and barge his way in, but you held your arm out, blocking his path and stopping him from doing any such thing so you could order him to take his sneakers and socks off and leave them on the mat first. He protested, claiming that that was dumb and that they would just get stolen by the other residents, but you ignored him, taking your own off like the model teenage boy you were. You told him that hardly anyone was here during the day anyway, and certainly no one who would fall subject to wanting a pair of muddied up, sodden Converse that looked about four years old. Strider sure seemed to have a god complex about his possessions. 

You stepped inside and grabbed two towels from a closet, throwing one to him so he could dry off. He had water dripping off of his hair and onto the floor (water that you would have to clean up later, no doubt) and a nigh soaked-through shirt, amongst other articles of clothing. Despite this, however, the first thing he went for with an immaculate sense of casualty were his sunglasses. You almost couldn't believe your eyes as he reached up and gently lifted them off his face; you thought they were glued there. 

"Of course you go for your stupid sunglasses first," you grumbled, gawking at him.

"Hey, I need the shades clean so I can see properly. It's fucking practical, ok?" he countered, wiping them off gingerly.

"Hardly," you scoffed. "If you wanted to see properly you wouldn't even wear them in the first place. It's not even sunny outside, not to mention all the other inane times you've worn them at night and shit. Do you even know the definition of the word practical?"

Figures you and he would end up having an argument about his sunglasses. It was really embarrassing how ludicrous the whole thing was as the banter progressed, and of course it eventually turned rather heated, as the both of you tended to take things way too seriously. It might as well have been a debate for your lives. Still, miraculously due to the fact that the very subject matter of your ongoing rants were not in their usual place on Dave's face, you couldn't help but appreciate the whole conversation a little more because you could now see his expressions in full form, unshielded by crappy metal and plastic and all other things that they use to mass-produce sunglasses for cheap profit from ironic douchebags like him. It was almost endearing. And in the middle of a particularly graphic ramble of why both he _and_ his shades were completely and irrevocably stupid, he broke out in laughter. You told him to shove it as you tried to finish your point, and he just shook his head and gave you a look. A look that was unsettlingly familiar and made you freeze in place and trail off. You didn't know where it came from, and you had never anticipated it coming from Strider, but one thing you knew for sure was that it very clearly resembled a look that had been used countless times in nearly every rom-com you've ever seen. You won't go into much more detail about it, because it was seriously starting to freak you out, but the main thing about it was that it was a look that suggested far more than platonic friendship. Surely you had to be mistaken though, right?

You guess eventually you came to your senses when he finally placed his shades back on, breaking the spell, and you didn't have the motivation to point out the fact that you were in a rather dimly lit area _inside_ so therefore he was still being stupid. Still, all unexpectedly affectionate expressions and fatuous arguments aside, you did kind of enjoy seeing his face for really the first time. He had nice eyes, you decided.


	7. A Decade Under the Influence

The next day, all hell seemed to break loose, which was a shame because it started out so pleasant too. 

Well, maybe “started out” isn’t the best out-of-context phrase. In truth, it started out pretty typical and mundane (two things you wouldn’t really classify as ‘pleasant’). Your dad drove you to school, you mulled through the first four classes, took two tests and a pop quiz, and finally went to lunch: the widely known safe haven of school where you could exercise a much lazier part of your brain and eat, ignoring those who weren’t relevant to you and praying that the tables were actually cleaned before you sat down, because who really knows what kind of shit goes on there. However, before you could cram your way inside the lunch room or cringe at some of the more gnarly entre choices your friends had bought (you proudly carried a packed lunch), you found yourself lost in a moment of surprise. 

Dave (of course it was Dave, who else would it be?) was leaning against the wall next to the doors leading to the cafeteria. You’d never seen him at lunch before; you weren’t sure why, but it was never something you had really questioned with much intention. It wasn’t weird for students to leave during lunch or sit in the library and study instead, so you weren’t too curious about it. Until now, that is. Seeing him out here on a seemingly random day, completely unannounced—it only made you want to ask him where he usually dwelled during this half hour period and solve the mystery once and for all. For all you knew it could be something completely evil, like building a weapon of mass destruction in preparation for serving the school up with one big helping of apocalypse-now. Or maybe he usually spent this time in some sort of secret society for “cool” kids and he was out here to recruit you. You would probably get set up with some lame sunglasses and forced to take a sacredly ironic oath in order to secure the brohood any moment now. Or maybe, just maybe, he did stuff that was totally normal and not disconcerting at all, but today he just wanted to sit with you and your friends, since most of them were his friends too. The possibilities were endless, and only most of them were ridiculous and farfetched. 

You were about to ask him about all this as you approached, but when he finally noticed you walking up to him it became clear that he had no intention of actually going inside. There goes your most rational theory.

"Sup," he called out, giving you a nod to complement. Something about that greeting was… off. It wasn't that it wasn't Strider-esque or untypical of his normal behavior or anything, it was just.... Well, look at his current expression, for example. To everyone else who wasn’t paying attention, he probably looked as nonchalant as ever, but you with your endless knowledge on what he naturally looked like in the wild could tell that it was something more than his common mask of casual indifference. He was doing a pretty good job of covering whatever it was up, but there was definitely a slight hint of something more enthusiastic there. You tried not to pay it much mind though; it would be weird if you confronted him about it. You didn’t really want him to know _that_ you knew him that well already. 

"Hey," you called back. "What are you doing here?"

"What, can I not stand outside the cafeteria? Is it illegal for me, specifically? Because I tell you, I am not in the mood to be discriminated against." 

You rolled your eyes in a most appropriate fashion. "Shut up, dickweed, you know what I mean. You're never out here. I've never seen you."

"So you watch out for me, eh? How flattering." After a few moments of your most unamused glare, he finally decided to stop being a douchehead. "I, uh," he cleared his throat, "was waiting for you actually." You raised a questioning eyebrow. "Was wondering if you wanted to eat lunch with me today."

You considered this lightly while waiting for more elaboration from his end, which never came. You didn't know where he ate or why he ate there, and your ever-caring friends would probably wonder where you were if you did go with him, but in the end you supposed that none of this really mattered all that much. It was only lunch. "Sure," you answered.

He raised his eyebrows. "Seriously?"

You shrugged a shrug of confirmation. Why not, right?

He immediately broke character with a full on beaming smile. It was… fuck, the only word that came to mind in relevance to it was ‘ _cute_ ’, but you didn’t find Strider cute. No fucking way. No, it was totally strange and unexpected, that's all. You were only used to him beaming when he was trying to be annoying, and even in those cases he never seemed to smile as brilliantly as this. "Well come on, dude. Let's do it then," he said, gesturing for you to follow him.

He led you down a few dank hallways, then outside through a side door you'd never even noticed before. You walked through a narrow passageway of overgrown grass with the outside walls bordering until you got to a clearing, the empty soccer fields that were adjacent to the school acting as scenery. It was surprisingly nice outside, you found. The weather was much less hectic than yesterday’s environmental fiasco. There was still a slight chill, of course, but since you had traded your very much useless jacket for a warmer, heftier one, you hardly even noticed. Still, despite the overall temperature working at a level that you could live with, you couldn't help but think back to yesterday and wonder if Dave would end up throwing his arm around you again, just for shits and giggles. Or maybe he only saved that party trick for desperate situations. Either way, you definitely wouldn’t be opposed to it, but you don’t know if you would feel comfortable letting him know that, so maybe you should just not bring it up. 

He sat down on the grass, which had thankfully dried overnight, and rested his back against the school wall, looking over his shoulder and waiting for you to sit next to him.

Admittedly, being outside was far from making it onto your list of favorite things, even if it was nice out. There were bugs and dirt and who knows what else, and it was bad enough you had to spend your time out here with the occasional walk home, even if you were isolated a little from the pure, raw nature with the manmade comfort of a sidewalk. And there wasn't even a sidewalk out here. No table or grass-free gap of any kind, you would be completely exposed to all the unknown creatures that lurked about. But, all of this aside, you also found it to be strangely calm out here. It was quiet enough that it made you realize how obnoxiously loud the cafeteria was in comparison, and it gave you an eerie ability to focus more. You also liked the idea of not having to worry about another food fight potentially taking place, cliché fully fledged or just an unfortunate toss-and-miss of a fry that lands in someone’s hair. And though there was a chance that you could be spontaneously ambushed by a spider and totally ruin this calm, you sat. Maybe _he_ would be the one to be spontaneously ambushed, you thought. That would be quite amusing.

There wasn't much conversation for a while as you opened your packed lunches. You both had sandwiches; his looked like peanut butter and jelly with the crusts cut off, nothing special if a bit kiddish. He also had a bottle of apple juice with him, only adding to the odd child-like quality of his meal. You’d tease him about it, but considering you’d probably just end up with an ironically defensive rant about how perfectly acceptable it was for a man of his age to be eating such things for lunch, you kept your mouth shut about it for now.

"So, what do you do when it rains?" you asked instead, since the topic seemed fitting.

He shrugged. "Find an empty classroom. Usually my English teacher lets me in her room, ’s long as I don't break anything." 

"Why eat alone though? It’s not like you don’t have anyone to sit with."

He took a thoughtful bite out of his sandwich. "I dunno, just something I did at my old school sometimes. It gives me time to work on my comics and shit. Besides, it's way too loud in the cafeteria. Annoying as hell. But, uh. I'm not eating alone today, am I?" Now would be a time where you would imagine him winking at you, but of course you couldn't tell. For a moment you thought about asking him to take his sunglasses off because you kinda wanted to see his eyes again, and considering the fact that the sun was actually out today, it might be just ironic enough a reason for him to do it. In the end, though, you weren’t able to work yourself up to it. You couldn't decide if it would be weird or not. 

"I guess not." You smirked happily, looking down at your own food and gnawing on your apple a little. Honestly, you were just expecting some hipster-justified reason about how being in the lunch room was too mainstream. "Comics?"

"Oh, man. You should see them; they are absolute pinnacles of true beauty. I mean, I don't wanna brag but they've got everything. Awesome character developments, brilliant plot twists, stairs. Everything."

"Yeah, I bet they're real Eisner Award worthy masterpieces, huh." 

"Oh, you have no fucking clue," he agreed. 

You decided that eating lunch out here with him was nice. On more than one occasion you found yourself in brief moments of silence where the two of you would just stare at each other or the environmental surroundings appreciatively. He seemed to be pretty happy that you were out there with him, and you weren't used to the genuine cheery emotion he was showing, though you weren’t objecting to it either. It was pretty cool seeing him smile like a fucking dork, even if his mouth was full with gross, half-chewed up food. But eventually, even though you kinda didn’t want it to, lunch came to an end, and the two of you had to say goodbye and go your separate ways for afternoon classes. 

The rest of the day seemed to take forever, but when it was finally over you made your way to the commons area like usual, an oddly contented spring in your step as fucked up as it was. Dave wasn’t there yet, unsurprisingly, but strange enough you did find Gamzee standing in his place looking rather intent. You decided to say hi, even though he's been a little touchy lately. No harm, right?

Wrong. Very wrong. When you walked up to him he gave you a grin, but not his normal, lazy, happy as a high ninja turtle one. No, this one was different. A step past cunning, leaning more towards downright _evil_ territories. This hadn’t been the first time you’d witnessed such an expression from him, but it sure had been a while, and all you knew now was that this expression meant trouble. "Hey, motherfucker," he said, pairing the greeting with crazy eyes. Yep, that’s sign number two that all hope was lost. Okay, you would definitely have to play this carefully from here on out, calculating every move so as to keep him calm. Perhaps you would be able to avoid any sort of potential conundrum he had in mind. It was like a game of chess: as long as you pay attention to every piece, he won't distract you with his knight and capture your queen with his rook. Fuck, you sucked at chess, though. Bad analogy choice, Karkat. "What _wicked_ news is up with you?" 

"Um, not much?" you replied, cautiously. "No news at all. What about you, Gam?"

"Oh, nothing, my short brother. Just waitin' for you so I could all up and have a wild word. That sound O.K.?"

This was the second time someone was waiting for you today, and honestly you were starting to prefer the first time. "I guess," you shrugged. It's not like you could say no. 

"Where'd you go for lunch, today, brother?" he asked, getting straight down to business. He asked it like he already knew the answer, and you weren't sure you wanted to confirm it for him. You could lie, of course, but something about that didn’t seem very acceptable. Not only would he not believe you, but the tiny controlling inner-portion of your mind that was way too self-assured and confident for your own good told you that you shouldn’t be afraid of telling the truth, even if it was something he wouldn’t like to hear.

"I ate outside with Dave," you said casually, trying to put the best ‘ _no big deal_ ’ spin on it that you could manage, because it really wasn’t a big deal, after all.  
He seemed to disagree though, as he nodded to himself. "Yeah, that's what I motherfuckin' thought."

"What's the matter, Gamzee? Can't I eat lunch with one of my friends?" you asked innocently. 

"We’re your damn friends, Karbro. You always up and eat lunch with us. Always." 

Okay, so maybe you should've at least told everyone that you were going to be with Dave today, but whatever. It's not like they fucking owned you, and you doubted that anyone else was as riled up about it as Gam anyway, considering that they weren’t out here confronting you. "It was just one day," you muttered. 

"Oh no, Karbro. It's more than one day. Ever since that motherfucker transferred his shit to this school, he's all you wanna hang around. When's the last time you and I had a bitchtits time hanging about? I haven't seen you for weeks 'cept for lunch. And now he’s stealing that too.”

You hadn't taken that into consideration. Strider really was the only person you hung around outside of school now that you thought about it. Except for Sollux, maybe, when you had shifts together, but even then Dave would usually show up and sit at the breakfast bar to keep you company while you worked. Terezi also mentioned something about this, didn’t she? Thinking about all of it now... maybe you were spending too much time with Dave. Fuck. Gamzee was still being ridiculous about it, though. 

"Well, still it's not like I'm going to eat lunch with him every day," you said, getting a little defensive. Though to be honest, before this you definitely would've been considerably less than opposed to the idea. Or at the very least you would've invited him to sit with your friends. Loud cafeteria or not, lunch was better with a blond douchebag there to help keep company.

"Oh, what the fuck ever, man," he spat, "You know you were all wantin' to go and ditch us tomorrow too. And the next day and the next. You wanted to make him a part of your everyday schedule and shit, you fucking know it." 

A glaring contest was arising as you tried to not feel too guilty. Gamzee was acting like an asshole, and he was taking this way too seriously. He didn't deserve your remorse. "I don't fucking know anything. You're just making unreasonable assumptions."

"Shut your mouth, Karbro, you know I'm not. He's a provoker. He all up and provoked me like a motherfucker. If you were really my friend you wouldn't be spending any time with him at all."

Was that the definition of friendship? Free rights to dictate who you can and cannot spend time with? "Why the fuck not? I'll spend time with whoever I want to. Just because he's an asshole to you doesn't mean he's one to me.” Though he kind of was, sometimes, but that was all a part of his charm, right? “Maybe if you weren’t such an unreasonable tool all the time he wouldn’t provoke you in the first place.” Aaaand great job keeping him calm. Gold fucking star, Karkat. 

He took a slow step forward, getting in your face looking down at you menacingly. "You're not defending him, are you, Karbro? You can’t be that much of a motherfucker to let yourself get that far gone."

"Maybe I am," you retorted. It was your life, you could get as 'far gone' as you wanted, whatever the fuck that meant. 

He shook his head, disbelieving and bemused. Like it was a different reality and this was all a joke, and you hated Strider as much as he did. But you didn’t, you don’t think you ever could now, and maybe he sensed that. "Man, you are more of his bitch than I thought."

You were about to protest, but it was at that precise moment that the man of the hour himself decided to finally show up, appearing behind you and raising one eyebrow curiously. "Whose bitch?" he asked, managing to startle you and piss Gamzee off all the more. 

Gamzee pushed your shoulder semi-roughly, guiding you out of the way as he stepped forward to face Dave. "Wouldn't you like to all up and motherfucking know?"

You scoffed disapprovingly and Dave gave you a glance before shifting his attention back to Gamzee. He stood up a little straighter and crossed his arms, sensing the tense mood. Maybe he was trying to look more intimidating, and though Gamzee was several inches taller it almost seemed to work a little. "Yeah, that's why I asked," he said, cool as a fucking cucumber.

Gamzee didn't say anything for a while, just retained his dark expression. Dave, on the other hand was giving him a look that clearly said ‘Are you serious?’ Meanwhile, you were frozen in place, mouth still agape from scoffing. Not knowing what to do, you wondered if anything more would progress from here. You sincerely hoped not. In fact, you hoped that this whole situation would take about 3000 steps backwards and shrink back into a petty rivalry between Annoying Asshole and High Clown Dude. But that didn't look like it was going to happen, so finally you decided to step in. Literally, you stepped in between them, trying to distract them from their staring contest while telling them to cool their fucking jets, already. It worked, to some extent, but only the distracting part, not the cooling.

"Karbro, get the motherfuck out of the way," Gamzee warned. 

You weren't having it anymore though, so instead, you defiantly told him no. 

That was when he growled. Literally, growled. You'd never heard such an animalistic noise come from a human as well as that before. It was almost impressive, if a bit scary. He then pushed you out of the way again, more forcefully than before, this time managing to knock you off balance a little as you staggered to the side.

Okay, now you were pissed. And apparently you weren't the only one.

"Don't fucking touch him," Dave snarled, stepping in more and balling his hands into fists. You did _not_ like the look of that at all, even if it was a little nice to see Dave defending you. Fuck.

"Who are you to tell me what to do? This ain’t about him, it's about you," Gamzee replied at a competitive level. "You and your wicked bad manners."

"What, you’re gonna have a full on hissy-fit over my 'bad manners'? Look in a fuckin' mirror, dude. You're not acting like the most cordial guy in town right now, are you? Considering you just nearly knocked your _best friend_ on the ground."

More growling noises.

"Why don’t you just get back to your fucked up dopey lifestyle and leave Karkat alone, we’re done here." Dave clutched your arm, ready to stomp away and take you with him, but before he could even drag you two steps Gamzee grabbed his shoulder, turning him around forcibly and, get this, _throwing a punch._ An actual fist fight. You figured that it was only a matter of time before something like this happened, since it had been a while since the last precarious event took place at your school, but fuck. Why did it have to be between two of your closest friends? And why did it have to be because of you? This is such unnecessary horse shit.

A string of curses was thrown out by Dave as he stumbled back, and all the eyes in the room that weren't already watching sure as hell were now. You were horrified, of course, but everyone else was gathering around eagerly, the sadistic teenagers. Any minute now and they would probably start chanting _Fight! Fight! Fight!_ And honestly, you could really do without that.

Dave clutched his face as he recovered. He readjusted his sunglasses, which had been knocked askew, before balling up his fists once again and absolutely _lunging_ at Gamzee, tackling him to the ground. He pinned him down with one hand and whacked him in the face with the other, but Gamzee seemed hardly fazed at all. It was painful to watch, but you weren't really surprised. He was kind of a champ at this sort of thing when he was pissed off enough. 

Once Gamzee seemed to recover from the shock of being tackled, he grabbed Dave's wrists to keep him from throwing any more punches and, in an aggressively swift manner, maneuvered Dave around while rolling so that he was on top now. He started hitting Dave again, over and over, alternating hands as each throw made nice, solid contact. It was all Dave could do to try to block them as best as he could, arms criss-crossed in front of his face. And it was all you could do to try to get Gamzee to _fucking stop,_ yelling at him and trying to pull him back, but you just weren’t strong enough to actually do anything. _Fuck._ Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Somewhere around Gam's fourth or fifth hit a few people seemed to come to their senses. Sure, most of them were still watching with glee, but two or three more sensible kids stepped in and helped you peel Gamzee off, thankfully. He protested a lot, both physically and verbally, and it was almost impossible but eventually they were able to escort him away. On his way being forced out of the commons area he wouldn’t stop looking back at you darkly, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched like he just might turn around and come back. It was fucking unsettling, to say the least, but unfortunately you had bigger things to worry about right now, one of them being sprawled out on the floor in a momentary daze with probably one hell of a headache. 

You stepped in with a few other people to help Dave up and, after a few moments of adjusting, he was able to stand on his own again. You couldn't help but scowl as you assessed the damage done to his face. It wasn't as bad as you thought, admittedly, but his nose was bleeding, and he was probably going to have a black eye tomorrow, amongst other bruises lining his cheeks and jaw. Dammit, dammit, dammit. If only you were better at mediating.

He held his sleeve against his nose and stood grumpily, because after all, it wasn’t very _cool_ to get beat up these days. Most of the other students had dispersed a little by now, but you could see them looking over at him often, talking with their friends or rapidly tapping away on their phones to spread the word even more, probably. What the fuck ever, as if it was _that_ big of a fucking deal. You ignored them and started storming out of the building, muttering under your breath and trying to straighten out your thoughts. You could only assume that Dave was following a few paces behind you, slow and silent.  
When you reached your apartment you sighed and waited a few seconds for Dave to catch up before grabbing his free arm and tugging him up with you. You figured you should at the very least offer him some proper paper towels before he ruined his sweatshirt any more. 

You led him into your bathroom and ordered him to clean himself up, but it was clear that he wasn't in any place to be washing out wounds right now as he scrubbed semi-viciously at the tender skin. Yeah, because that was totally going to make it better. You stopped him immediately, grumbling about how he needed to be gentle, dammit, or he would only irritate it more. Wasn’t that common knowledge?

You removed his shades carefully and set them down on the bathroom counter. They were pretty bent up to be honest, unfortunate for him. It was probably going to be a total blow to his self-esteem since he was practically emotionally linked with the damn things. You dabbed gingerly at his face as you went off about how stupid he and Gamzee were for getting in a fucking fight, though Dave’s only reply was “He started it,” as he avoided eye contact. 

Like you said, his face wasn't too bad right now, though the bruises were already starting to become vaguely discolored. You would have to get him some ice for that, but at least his nose stopped bleeding.

"So, uh, thanks. I guess," he said quietly, gesturing to the mild wounds which were now cleaned up and no longer dripping.

You shrugged, tilting your head to the side as an excuse for talking. You decided he deserved a little bit of the silent treatment. Sure, as he had so reasonably stated before, Gamzee had started it, but that didn't mean that Dave wasn't at fault too. And you guess you were as well for being so absorbed in Dave's shenanigans that you didn't have time for Gamzee, or any of your other friends for that matter, but you tried to shake that off for now. After all, you weren't the one who lost your head and physically attacked anyone today. 

You sighed. Why did people have to overcomplicate things so much? It wasn't like you were the fucking Kardashians or cavemen or something like that. You were rational beings that were totally capable of polite interaction, right? God, you fucking hoped so, because there was probably going to be _so much_ drama at school tomorrow. 

He seemed to notice your continuing weariness about this whole situation as he put a hand on your shoulder. It was his attempt at being comforting, you supposed. It didn't really work though, sympathy wasn’t his thing. Nonetheless, he went on to give you an empathetic nod, telling you that "It's all ok" in a tone of voice that was totally foreign on him. Really all this was just making you a little uncomfortable, and you wished you could’ve not done what you did next, but he was being so awkwardly unnatural that you couldn't help but accidentally let out a stifled giggle. An actual giggle. What the fuck, Karkat? Since when do you fucking giggle? Add that to the list of things that went wrong today.

He looked offended, frowning, which only made you laugh more. He sure was acting awfully out of character today.

He shook his head like he was disappointed, but you could tell he was fighting a smile of his own. "God dammit, I'm trying to be empathetic.”

"Well, it doesn't suit you," you admitted. 

"Fuck, guess I'll just have to go back to being an emotionless asshole then, huh," he said.

"Shut up, you big baby." You shook your own head for what seemed like the millionth time today, amused. His hand was still resting on your shoulder, too, relaxed and comfortable. You decided not to comment on it, the contact was nice. It made his presence here feel all the more real, and gave you a little reassurance that everything really was going to be ok, even if Gamzee hated your guts now.

"I'm actually kind of surprised you got beat up so badly," you said when the air felt light enough.

He tried to hide it, but there was a hint of a blush settling nicely on his already red face. "Shut up, I didn't get beat up at all. Besides, hand to hand combat really isn't my thing. More of a sword guy, you know? Man, if I had my sword—"

"Let's not fantasize about the decapitation of my friend with your shitty sword skills," you interrupted. 

"My sword skills aren't shitty," he muttered, but made no further comment on the matter. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence as he stared down at you and you stared back. In all honesty, you did feel a little better that Dave was here, and that counted for something. It meant that he was perfectly capable of friendship, didn't it? Your relationship with him was just fine, despite any objections or doubts Gamzee may have. Maybe you would even go as far as to say that Dave was your new best friend, now. I mean, the two of you were really having a bonding moment here. It was nice and it was mutual, and it simply wreaked the idea that the two of you were great friends. Or at least, that's what you thought until you felt his hand tense up on your shoulder, gripping it lightly. That seemed to bring you back into reality some, because _woah_ , when did you get so close to him? You weren’t this close a few seconds ago, were you? Was he-- was he actually leaning in right now? He totally was! That fucker, what the hell would he do that for? 

Well, you knew what he would do that for, you just weren't... expecting it….

He was intimately close now, and you found yourself unable to jerk away like your conscious was telling you to. You were paralyzed in sheer awkwardness, _really_ hoping that at the last minute he would suddenly stop and give you a proud smirk, playing this all off as a joke. And then you and he would laugh it off and he would claim that he “got you so good, man," and you would call him some immature, degrading name, but secretly be super relieved because you didn’t think that you would actually be able to handle being kissed by someone you just called your _best friend._ As in, _only_ a friend. But that wasn’t going to happen, because come on. What kind of a joke would that be? Certainly not one that Strider would fall victim to trying. 

Still, to your surprise, he did stop at the last minute, a mere two or three inches away. Though you were pretty sure it wasn’t because he was about to secure his most-prestige title as Prank Master Strider. No, it seemed to be in hesitation. You didn’t think that he was really the hesitating type, but you weren’t complaining; you could use a moment to regain your ability to function. Perhaps this was your opportunity to back away. 

However, before you could, he let out a breath that he must’ve been holding for forever. You could feel it, warm and soft on your skin, and it… confused you, to say the least. You were too close to him to read his expression without going cross-eyed, but it actually sounded _shy_ , all shaky and disgruntled. It was so innocent and sincere, and you couldn’t help but sympathize a little as you mentally cursed at how quickly the awkwardness in the room was growing. There was absolutely no way you could do anything now that wouldn’t classify as awkward. But, you had to do something, right? You couldn’t just stand here forever. Oh god, ok. You would have to do it, you would have to back away and face the consequences. You would just have to, if only you could _fucking move_ , you had to! 

But you didn’t. Instead you squeezed your eyes shut, as if doing so would make you disappear, and threw the rule book out of the metaphorical window. And then you leaned in the rest of the way. 

Did you do this out of pity? Or because you felt that _not_ doing it would be more awkward? Or maybe you were just possessed and had no control over your actions. You had no fucking clue, but… but what? Whatever it was that made you do it—did it really matter right now? It was happening all the same, and fortunate or not, that was a simple matter of _fact_.

At first, Dave seemed a little shocked, like he wasn’t expecting you to do that. Maybe that meant that you he was expecting you to reject him, and maybe that’s what you should’ve done, but once he seemed to come to terms with what was going on and came back to life, making an effort to _passionately_ kiss you back, you found yourself unable to think about any previous contemplations or considerations of rejecting him. You’re mind went absolutely blank of everything, in fact, and how could it not? You were kissing your best friend. Holy fuck.

You were kissing Dave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so its like 1 am right now  
> but its been forever since i updated, so take this super long as chapter as an apology, ive been pretty busy lately because thats just what happens when youre moving halfway across the country (i havent even packed one box yet and were leaving on saturday)  
> also, i had an edited version of this like a week ago, but it got fuCKING DELETED, leaving me with a shit first draft and broken attempts to recreate what i once had, so if its really awkward and flows really weirdly, thats why  
> and im just gonna apologize in advance for any sucky updating schedules in the future, though if i can ill try to stick to updating once a week because this story is like, almost therapeutic for me, you know?  
> anyways, thanks for reading! hope you enjoyed!


	8. I Never Knew, I Never Knew

You couldn't believe what was happening. You were actually _kissing_ Dave. This was so not something you had anticipated, to say the least. This wasn't even something that you had _wanted_ , I mean what the _fuck?_ He was being so uncool right now, and frankly it was making you very uncomfortable. You guys were supposed to be friends, not… not…. Well, certainly not whatever ass-backwards fuckery this was. 

Really, you were right on the brink of freaking the fuck out and throwing yourself headfirst out of the nearest window just to get out of this whole mess, but before you could even try to make the slightest of absconds away, he decided to shift his grip from his one hand on your shoulder to both hands, grazing down your sides until they stopped at the waist. He clasped his arms around you and pulled you in tighter, deepening the contact in the process. And thus, you were locked in place, but… but this wasn’t so bad…. He was really warm and you had to admit, you kind of liked being held this tightly…. 

In your fit of marveling at your current situation you realized that you didn’t mind what was going on much at all. As each and every shred of self-control caved in on itself, you found yourself giving in to his embracement, and as much as you would’ve hated to admit it if you were still in a place capable of reasonable thought you found yourself absolutely fucking _melting_ in his arms and reaching up to wrap your hands around his neck, threading your fingers through his hair in an almost automatic fashion. Like you weren’t even thinking about it, and you suppose that you kind of weren’t. There were more pressing matters going on after all, and whatever your hands may or may not be doing was just a secondary gesture added to make the sum of what was happening all the more involved. 

As he hummed contentedly through the motions there was no doubt in your currently narrowed mind that what you and he were doing right now was a rather accurate definition of insanity. This wasn’t something you could have planned out or over-analyzed to a point where it would have made sense, and you sure as hell couldn’t follow normal protocol and scream at him for being a fuckwit like he probably deserved. But fuck, it was all so unexpectedly satisfying that you didn’t even have it in you to care. You didn’t have it in you to do anything other than just go along with whatever he had planned, and so when he eventually decided to progress your activity further by running his tongue over your lower lip, you didn’t hesitate one bit. You didn’t even know what you were doing, lost in a daze with a momentary lapse of judgment and perception, but let’s just say things got a whole lot more _French_ after that, if you catch my drift. And if you don’t, I mean that the both of your tongues accepted every cliché that could ever come to mind in such a heated situation, prodding and exploring and fighting for dominance like the idea of tomorrow ceased to exist. 

You didn’t know how you could ever think about rejecting him before, really. The idea that things could’ve played out so differently if you had reacted like how you had originally planned, like how your conscious was screaming at you to, it was almost unsettling. Because _damn_. Now that you knew that this was what Strider had to offer, then you decided he could kiss you all he wanted. Take up all of your time, lost in simultaneous taste and touch all fucking day and night and mid-afternoon and…. 

Wait.

Wait, no. What were you talking about? He was your friend, this wasn’t… this shouldn’t be happening, and you sure as fuck shouldn’t be _enjoying_ it. Uh, right? Fuck, you didn’t know, but suddenly with reality in full force once again, all of this touching and contingence and whatever the fuck else that was going on, it all became too much for you. You needed to put an end to this, like _now_. Right fucking now.

You finally willed yourself to pull away, your eyes open wide as you breathed in heavy, astonished huffs of free air. He was still holding you around the waist, and therefore you were still only a mere few inches away from him, but you didn’t know if you had it in you to gracelessly flail out of his grip, desperate to get away though you may be. In hindsight, though, you probably should have, because of course he would fail to understand your doubting, unresolved feelings regarding the current matter at hand, misconstruing them for who knows what. He probably just thought that you were catching your breath, and seeing no problem with that he didn’t let up his apparent affection for you in the slightest. He started giving you fluttering little pecks on the corner of your mouth, eventually trailing them down towards the edge of your jaw. You felt your face heat up like it was a nuclear reactor, and there was a pit in your stomach that made you feel like you were going to be sick, but in a way that you had never really felt before. It was almost in a… good way. 

You knew that your neck would probably be the next area to be sloppily attacked, and god fucking forbid you actually _shuddered_ just at the thought of it. And really, you wanted nothing more than to close your eyes again and tilt your head back in order to give him better access, but then you re-reminded yourself that this was madness. It was complete madness. Your senses had just enough will to shine through your overwhelming instinct and pump that thought throughout your veins, and with that it was almost as if his actions became tainted. Immediately you took a hasty step or two back before anything else could shamefully progress, wriggling yourself out of his arms and holding your now free hands up in front of you as an act of defense in case he tried anything more. Though to be completely honest, you didn’t know how much of a fight you’d really be able to put up. 

For nearly a whole minute after the both of you had physically separated, you just stood there, staring at each other in a manner that probably did little justice to showcase the inner turmoil that was really going on inside your momentarily fucked up grapefruits. For once in your life you found yourself wishing that he still had his shades on just so you could avoid the utterly confused expression he was wearing. It was almost ironic, really, that now would be one of the few times he was without them, and you wondered if he even realized that his eyes weren’t covered up with his constant of a fashion accessory. You couldn’t imagine so, he was probably worrying about more obvious matters, but for a moment or two it was all you could think about. That and how just under his right eye there was a slight spot of discoloration. The bruise wasn’t in full bloom yet, but it did its job of reminding just how fucked up the day already was before Dave had to go and initiate the sloppy mess of a make out session. 

Eventually he unfroze from his paralyzed, awkward position and dropped his arms to his sides in a manner that let you know he seemed to finally get the picture you were so conspicuously radiating, that what had just happened was far from being okay. “Um…” was all he said, face burning guiltily. 

In another circumstance, you would’ve absolutely squealed to see him blush this much, since embarrassment was a foreign concept to him and all, but now was not the time. Especially since you were probably just as red, if not more. You cleared your throat, preparing to fix this very palpable tension with a nice, fitting rant that would perfectly describe your feelings and resolve the whole situation like it never even happened. “I...” you started. But you couldn’t get any farther than that. 

You could tell by the slightest of mannerisms he allowed that he was hanging himself out on a limb here, eager for what you were about to say and desperate for it to be something that wouldn’t leave him completely dejected. But you didn’t think that anything you had in stock would satisfy his mental requests, and you had to force yourself to break away from his oddly confronting gaze in order to continue because it confused you and broke your heart and pissed you the fuck off all at the same time, and you just couldn’t fucking handle that. 

What you needed right now was to sort out your thoughts, and you needed to be alone to do that. Which meant that you would need to man up enough to get rid of Dave, as awkward as it may leave you later on. “I—I think maybe you should go home now,” you said quietly, avoiding eye contact.

"Oh," he said blankly. You couldn’t tell what the tone of his voice was, and honestly you didn’t really want to. Things were mentally scarring enough as they were. "Oh, um, yeah. Okay." 

You think that he wanted to say something more as he walked to the door and hesitated, hand on knob about to twist it open, and quite frankly you kinda wanted to say something more too, but what was there really to say right now? It’s not like ‘ _See you at school!_ ’ would be appropriate, much less anything else that you’d be able to muster. So he just sighed and let himself out, and that was that. 

You just stood there for a few moments, listening to his footsteps as they faded away to nothing and beyond. Because really, what the fuck were you supposed to do now? Return to your normal, boring afterschool routine? As if that was a possibility. And it’s not like you could talk this out with anyone in order to try to make sense of it all. God, if any of your friends found out that you kissed Dave…. You didn’t even want to think about it, I mean Terezi would have a fucking field day being no help at all, Gamzee would go even more batshit than he already was and probably set fire to the whole fucking town, and everyone else…. Well, they would probably feel just as confused and uncomfortable about it as you.

“What the fuck just happened?” you muttered to yourself instead, the question already feeling like you had asked it a billion times. And it’s not like you were expecting a reply or anything, but it would really be nice if some magical fucking fairy popped out of nowhere and explained everything. It would definitely be something you'd appreciate. Because seriously, what the fuck just happened? What _was_ that? What was Strider fucking _thinking?_ And… and what were _you_ thinking? Kissing him back….

This couldn’t mean that you _liked_ him, could it? After all, you weren’t the one who had initiated the whole lot of this. It was all his doing, leaning in on you close enough to smell the perfume you weren’t wearing. And if he hadn’t have done that in the first place, things would’ve been totally ordinary and peachy now, or at least, not quite as fucked up. You still had that whole Gamzee problem to worry about, of course. But… but that was Dave’s fault too, wasn’t it? Partially anyway. 

You couldn’t help but think about how many problems he was causing today, and it was probably only because you were lost and needed someone to blame, if only temporarily, but you also couldn’t help but think about how maybe things would be better if you had never befriended him. If he had just kept to himself and didn’t make it his life’s mission to annoy you that first night at the diner…. Maybe then you would’ve never sat with him under the bleachers, or gone to football games with him or started taking rides or get caught in the rain or sat with him at lunch, or fucking _kissed_ him, and maybe then Gamzee would have nothing to be pissed about and you would have your completely typical life to mull through for your final year of high school. Hell, maybe you would’ve even finally closed the deal with Terezi like you had been wanting to since freshman year. God, and you were so worried about her being obsessed with him in the beginning. Maybe if you had never met Strider you and Terezi would’ve been the ones kissing today. It was a weird thought to think about, not just because Terezi was your friend and you had already described how fucked up it was for friends to kiss, but also because, even if you didn’t realize it until now, you think that your romantic sentiments for her had diminished over the past few weeks, mysteriously enough. 

But if Dave was never here…. Fuck, you don’t know why you would even entertain the thought of an alternate timeline where you had never met Dave. It’s not like such a thing was possible, and even if it was, would you want it to be? Yes, Dave was an asshole, and today was no exception, but he was also pretty fun to hang around most of the time. And yes, he was a stubborn, unreasonable prick, but it was kind of in a way that was almost endearing to you. And yes, he’s been causing a lot of problems lately, but, fuck, he was your best friend, and since you had known him it almost seemed like you lost yourself around him sometimes. Like how you, absentmindedly or not, allowed yourself to get consumed to the point where you didn’t even realize that you were acting like a totally different person every now and again. And now you were just so caught up in him and being friends and whatever the fuck else that all of the hypothetical thinking about him not being a regular on the Karkat Show? It was pointless, because there was no way that this year would’ve been any better if you had never met him. That was one truth that even you, like it or not, would never be able to deny.

Just. Fuck. Why the hell did he have to _kiss_ you? 

Surely he couldn’t have been harboring whatever feelings that motivated the action since he met you and became friends with you. The idea of that being the case was really unsettling for some reason, because you weren’t _that_ oblivious, were you? No, no it couldn’t be. He had only started showing any sense of a more-than-platonic interest recently. But you supposed that in the end, it didn’t matter when he started to feel this way, it mattered _why._ Because seriously, why? Why would anyone in their right mind ever like you enough to actually want to kiss you? Maybe it was a result of overactive teenage hormones, was all. Maybe he didn’t even like you, he was just sexually deprived or frustrated or whatever the correct term was. And maybe that’s why you kissed him back as well, and why you at times felt nervous around him or wanted to spend all your time with him. It was just a normal friendship that’s morals got lost in the weeds of teenage hormones. After all, what else would really make sense?

You didn’t want to answer that question. You didn’t want to answer any more questions, or think any more up either. You didn’t want to think at all, in fact. You just wanted to press some sort of button that would shut up the thoughts running through your head and making you worry and doubt and freak the fuck out. 

At this point you realized you were still under the doorway of your bathroom, AKA the scene of the wretched crime itself. You took a step back to look in the mirror that hung so generically on the wall, as if you thought that for some reason you would actually look different after kissing Strider. Or maybe it was because you just wanted to make sure that you weren’t on some temporary trip and imagining the whole thing, maybe some fucked up imagery would be parading about in the background that you weren’t able to notice before. But no, there was only a very normal if horizontally inverted Karkat staring back, looking exactly the same as he did at any other moment of any other day. It was very disconcerting to say the least, that you didn’t suffer any physical changes, because you sure as hell felt like you did on the inside. 

You sighed and looked down into the sink instead, not being able to handle your own confronting glare asking you why you were such a fucking idiot. You turned the hot water handle on so you could wash your hands like you always did when you were distressed, making sure to really taking your time in this case, no doubt scrubbing off a few layers of skin. Your hands would probably smell like the flowery scent of the soap all week. Why your dad decided to get you lilac scented hand soap in the first place, you had no clue, but it killed the germs and on some delusional level it killed some of the guilt as well, which was nice. And you almost didn’t notice, you were literally half a second away from turning out the bathroom light and leaving to go watch some mind-numbing TV or something, but just as you were drying your hands off on your jeans you noticed out of the corner of your eye something very out of place. 

His shades were still sitting on the counter, waiting desolately for their owner to reclaim them and fix them up. It was no shock that they were still there, you were the one to put them there in the first place after all, but it still surprised you nonetheless. You had completely forgotten about them being there, like they had just disappeared never to return when he didn’t have them on earlier. 

Which meant that he had to walk all the way home with his eyes uncovered, and he would also have to be like so until you gave these pesky pieces of eyewear back. But you couldn’t just do that, could you? Not now, anyways. You weren’t ready to see him again, and even if you were you didn’t know where he lived, so there was no way he would be able to get these back tonight. But tomorrow… fuck, you would totally have to see him at school tomorrow, wouldn’t you. 

_Unless you ditched him._

The thought of doing so was deliciously tempting, but only a fantasy at the most. Your dad never let you skip school, not unless you were literally on your death bed. But maybe at the end of the day you would be able to leave school without him. That would be horrible of you, and it would probably only make things all the more awkward the next time you really did see him, but it was definitely a possibility. Tomorrow was going to be horrible enough as it was, what with Gamzee to worry about, so maybe getting through an afternoon without adding even more drama to the mix would be good. Healthy, even... 

You shook your head and rubbed your temples, wishing more than ever that you would spontaneously disappear into oblivion and simply not exist. Tomorrow was going to be a floundering, teenage hell, no matter what case panned out, and to say that you were not looking forward to it would be the biggest understatement of your whole, anticlimactic life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so, been a while, yeah?  
> I'll skip the details regarding why, because fuck do i not want to get into that, but i will say that i do not know how many chapters this has left. it could have none left, i could totally leave this unfinished, that is a possibility, though i think i might go at least one more, but we will just have to see.   
> anyway, thanks for reading! hope youve enjoyed even though this is severely overdue :/  
> you cats have a rad day


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